


Healing

by shannon730 (Shannon)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Other, Spoilers, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-19
Updated: 2007-10-18
Packaged: 2018-10-01 00:42:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10176629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shannon/pseuds/shannon730
Summary: Snape survives Nagini's bite but has to deal with a permanent injury and find a way to start over.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**Prologue**  
“You must be wrong,” Ron said, peering down at the man on Shrieking Shack floor. 

Hermione raised her head so she could glare at him. “I’m not wrong. He’s still breathing and he has a pulse.” 

“Then what do we do?” Harry asked. He had been so sure Snape was dead, but he had learned long ago not to question Hermione’s judgment.

“Take him to Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione suggested standing up and staring at the unconscious man once more. “We certainly can’t leave him here.”

“You want us to carry the greasy git all the way back to Hogwarts?” Ron asked. 

“No, I want to levitate him and bring him back that way,” she sighed. “There’s no reason to carry him.”

Harry looked at his friends and back at the man on the floor. He didn’t know how he had survived but he knew he owed Severus Snape at least this much. “I’ll do it.” He raised his wand and muttered the spell, watching Snape rise from the ground.


	2. Chapter 1

**Part One**

He slowly opened his eyes. He was in his bedroom at Hogwarts. He wasn’t dead…or maybe he was in hell and would spend eternity forced to teach the future dunderheads. His head hurt. He knew he should stay here; knew he wasn’t strong enough to get up just yet but he needed to know what had happened. Had Potter seen his memories? Had he understood what he had to do? There really was no telling if he could figure it out without Granger to prod him along. Had the Order defeated Voldemort? Had Potter cleared his name? Was Potter dead and he was simply being held down here until they could send him to Azkaban? Or worse, had Voldemort won? Was he being held until the Dark Lord found some new way to torture and kill him since the snake hadn’t done the job? 

“You’re awake.”

Snape turned his head toward the familiar voice and groaned. He was in hell. It was really the only explanation for Hermione Granger being in his rooms. He tried to sit up, it was too hard to be intimidating lying flat on your back, and he wanted the girl out of his rooms immediately. He pushed himself up and frowned at the tingling sensation in his left arm. It ran all the way from his shoulder to his hand. Before he could more than register the new sensation his vision began to blur, a wave of nausea overtook him, and he was forced to lie back down. 

“You shouldn’t’ get up yet,” Hermione said, rushing over to him, she began fussing with the blankets covering him. “You’re too weak. Madam Pomfrey says it could take a few days before you’re able to get up. I have some potions for you in the other room. I’ll get them. “

If Granger was here, the Order must have won. They were free of Voldemort at last. She seemed too concerned with his welfare for Potter to have died before clearing his name. If he even deserved to be cleared. After all, he had done exactly as they believed. He had killed Albus Dumbledore in cold blood; the only difference is the reasons he had done it. 

“Professor,” Hermione’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Are you in pain? I have a potion for pain out here, Madam Pomfrey said you wouldn’t want it but she’d leave it anyway.” 

“I don’t want a pain potion,” he replied. “The pain isn’t insurmountable.”

“Yes, sir.” She pulled the door closed on her way out. He closed his eyes once again and tried to quell the dizziness he was feeling and wondered briefly if he wouldn’t have been better off dead than feeling the way he did now. 

***

Hermione leaned against the door and sighed. He was awake, finally. Everyone was starting to lose hope and arrangements were being made to move him to St. Mungos for long-term care. She went to the fireplace and quickly threw in some powder. “Headmaster’s office.” 

“Miss Granger?” Professor McGonagall said in surprise when Hermione’s head appeared in her fireplace.

“He’s awake, Professor,” Hermione said quickly. “I can’t talk; he needs his potions but if you could let everyone know, and maybe send Madam Pomfrey down when she has a few minutes.” 

“Take him his potions,” McGonagall agreed. “I’ll take care of everything else.” She hesitated for a moment before adding, “Hermione, Severus isn’t the most pleasant of patients. If you need someone to relieve you…”

“I didn’t think he would be,” she smiled slightly. “Injuries rarely improve one’s mood, but I’ll be fine.” 

With that last statement Hermione pulled her head from the fireplace, quickly got up, and headed to the table where she had set the potions that had been left for when he woke up. She frowned at the pain potion. She had seen the look on his face when he sat up. Something was wrong with his arm. She was sure of it but she couldn’t force him to take anything for pain. If it were Harry or Ron, or just about anyone else, she’d simply mix it in with something else, another potion or a cup of tea, but she was sure her Potions Professor would notice it. 

She knew McGonagall was right; she may need someone to relieve her down here now that Snape was awake. She had no doubt he would be an unpleasant patient and she may not be able to make him rest as he should. She wasn’t exactly his favorite student so he may not even want her here but at the time the decision had been made she was the best choice. It was agreed that Harry would be a bad choice; Harry would always remind Snape of the man that stole his love from him. Ron was, well, Ron and would no doubt cause more problems than he solved. And his brother had just died. He needed to be with his family. As did all the other Weasleys. Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall had injured students to care for. Students not injured enough for St. Mungos but whose parents had not come for them yet….or couldn’t come for them. Andromeda had offered but she had baby Teddy to care for and no one thought it was a good idea for Snape to wake up to a squalling newborn. Neville? Not likely. Hagrid? As bad a choice as Ron. She was simply the best choice. Her parents were still safe far away from here. She’d have to go get them but it could wait until Professor Snape was out of danger. So she had said she’d do it. 

She looked at the potion phials in her arms. She had everything he needed. She’d grabbed the pain one as well just in case he changed his mind. Sighing she set everything down again. He’d probably be hungry; she should floo the kitchen for him before she went in there. It would take a few minutes for the elves to prepare something and this would get them started before he had to ask. 

After flooing the kitchen for soup and tea, she gathered the phials and headed back to the bedroom. When she entered the room, he was sitting up, leaning against the pile of pillows behind him. “I think I have everything you’ll need,” she said setting them all down on the table. “And Madam Pomfrey will be down soon to check on you. And the House elves are sending up soup and tea.” 

She picked up the first phial and carefully measured out the dosage into a small cup and handed it to him. He reached for it with his left hand and she let go as his fingers closed around it. She started to reach for the second phial when he swore loudly. Jumping slightly she looked over at him. She saw the spilled potion spreading across the blanket, the cup lying next to him… and him starting at his hand. 

“Miss Granger,” he said softly, “I think we need Poppy down here now,”


	3. chapter 2

**Part Two**  
Snape watched Poppy bustling about the room, obviously keeping herself occupied to keep from talking to him. He was also aware that Hermione Granger was just outside the door also waiting to find out her fate. Would she be stuck here with him for a long-term recovery or could she return to her friends and family and enjoy winning the war? The soup and tea had helped him to feel better, stronger, but his hand was still a problem. He couldn’t seem to grip anything at all. He couldn’t feel it. He could feel his hand, it wasn’t a paralysis, he just couldn’t feel what he was trying to grip or touch. Although as a Potion’s Master that wasn’t much better. 

“Just tell me, Poppy,” Snape sighed. “Is this temporary?” 

She turned toward him and he didn’t need for her to speak to know the answer. “I don’t think so, Severus, I’m sorry.”

“My left arm is useless?” 

“Not completely,” she assured him. “And I can’t be certain but you could regain some feeling with time. Nerve damage isn’t always permanent but that snake was…”

“Large and deadly,” he snapped, fully aware of the fact he should be happy to be alive. He was, or had been, happy enough to be alive until he realized he couldn’t use his left hand. “Just go…and send Miss Granger in.”

“I’ll leave some potions for pain and for nerve re-growth for you on my way out.” 

He closed his eyes and leaned back further into his pillows. He couldn’t effectively teach or even create potions without the use of both hands. While he had never truly wanted to be a teacher he was one now, he knew nothing else, unless you counted torturing and killing innocent people as hirable talents, and with Voldemort dead he doubted anyone would. He had no way of making a living at this stage of his life, nor did he have the money to survive without employment. 

“Madam Pomfrey said you wanted to see me, Sir?” He opened his eyes to see the all too familiar head poking through the doorway. He pushed himself to a sitting position. 

“ There's no reason for you to stay, Miss Granger," Snape said leaving his bed to make his way slowly toward the large wardrobe in the corner. "I can manage on my own."

"But Madam Pomfrey said…"

"I said I'm fine," he insisted angrily reaching with his left hand to pull a set of robes out and quickly dropped them. Muttering under his breath, he bent to retrieve them and grabbed for the wardrobe when a wave of dizziness overcame him. 

"How are you fine?" Hermione asked, at his side immediately. "How are you going to manage on your own? You can barely walk."

"You won a war, Miss Granger," he said, coming back to his feet with her assistance. "You should be out celebrating, or spending time with your family now that they are finally safe. Not trapped here caring for someone you despise out of some sense of Gryffindor duty."

***  
She had expected a lot of things from Severus Snape when she heard Madam Pomfrey say she didn't know if the nerve damage was temporary. Rage, general nastiness, even determination to fight it, but not this. Not self-pity, and that's what it was, if he had wanted her to leave because he believed he could manage on his own he wouldn't have let her help him up; wouldn't have sound so defeated. He wanted her to leave so he could wallow in self-pity. 

"I'm not trapped here. I volunteered to be here to help you recover," she said stepping back when she was sure he was steady. "My friends aren't celebrating anything, too many funerals to attend for that. As for my family, I sent my parents away, altered their memories, to keep them safe. Waiting a little while longer to bring them back won't hurt. They're fine, you are not."

"I don't need or want your pity." 

"I'm not giving it," she responded, "I'm offering help to a teacher that I respected for most of my time here. You've helped us how many times in the last seven years? You knew right where I was while we were in hiding. I know you did; it was your Patronus that gave Harry the sword. You could've had me arrested and sent to Azkaban, or killed, any time but you didn't. This is the least that I can do."

"Miss Granger, I can feel nothing in my left arm. I can move it but I can't feel it. I cannot hold on to anything; I cannot feel heat or cold, or pain in it. I can no longer identify a potion ingredient by touch; tell how finely it was chopped. None of things a Potions Master in this school needs to do. Do you plan to stay forever; t o act as my left arm?"

Hermione took a deep breath; she was not going to let this man wallow in self-pity. He was a hero, he was alive, and because of him so was she, so was Harry, and Ron, and most of the students at this school. "With all due respect, Sir, that's just not true. The nerves in your left arm are damaged, but that doesn't mean you can't do all the things you just listed. You just can't do them with your left hand anymore. You're right handed anyway, so it shouldn't be that big of an adjustment. You don't hold your wand during the entire class period the way other teachers do, so your right hand is completely free most of the time. You feel sorry for yourself and I can understand that. I can't imagine what this must be like for you but it's not the worst possible thing that could've happened."  
***

He stared at her for several moments before speaking. How dare a student speak to him that way? She had no right and he was not feeling sorry for himself, a potion master needed both hands. 

"How dare you…"

"If you want me to leave I will," she said quietly, "I'm no longer your student and am not required to subject myself to your abuse. But if you want help adjusting to this injury I'm willing to stay and, as you said, act as your left arm until you master working without it."

He stared at her again. Was she right? Did he just feel sorry for himself? Could he learn to live this way? To continue to work? Would he even be allowed to work here now? Did he want her help? He reached down to try to pick up the clothes she had retrieved from the floor and set next to him on the bed and once again found himself unable to grip them. Sighing he admitted defeat. He would need help, and he didn’t exactly have friends lining up to offer. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and slowly released it, "If you're certain you want to stay and help me, Miss Granger, I would accept it."

Hermione smiled. "I'll let Professor McGonagall know that I'll need rooms of my own for a while. You should dress as well, people are eager to see you now that you're wake." 

Before he could respond, she left the room pulling the door closed behind her, leaving him alone. People were eager to see him?


	4. chapter 3

**Part Three**  
"I hardly think that thing is necessary, Miss Granger," Snape snapped, scowling at the piece of cloth she was holding out to him. They had been getting along fairly well for nearly two weeks while he regained his strength and worked on adjusting to not using his left hand as he usually would, but asking him to wear that thing was going too far.

"Yes it is," she insisted, "at least for now." 

"My arm is not broken, nor will my moving it make any difference in my recovery, I see no reason to wear that thing."

"I realize that, Sir, however you need to adjust to not using your left hand to pick things up. Making it unavailable to you is probably the easiest way to remind you not to use it."

He scowled at her again. He didn’t want to wear it, and he was aware he was being unreasonable, but a sling was a sign of weakness. An obvious sign he wasn't whole anymore. He couldn't pretend to be uninjured with it holding his arm immobile. "I will remember without it, Miss Granger."

***  
Hermione groaned in frustration. Respect for the man in front of her was the only thing keeping her here doing this every day. He'd argued with everything she suggested for the last two weeks. Most things weren't worth fighting with him over, not when she knew how nasty he could be when he wanted, so she'd let it go. After all, he was only slowing down his own recovering. But this, wearing the sling, she wasn't going to back down on. She was tired of cleaning up broken glass and spilled drinks. She did it magically but even that she shouldn't have to do. 

Today they were supposed to try a simple potion, so he could start adjusting to potion making without his left arm. They were to brew the nerve potion he was using. It was simple but many of the ingredients were still dangerous, she wasn't going into that lab only to have him injure her because he grabbed a jar or bottle with the wrong hand. 

"Sir, you need to wear it if we're going to work on a potion today, it's too dangerous," she said, trying to stay calm and not lose her temper.

"No."

"Then work on the potion by yourself," Hermione responded dropping the sling on the table and walking toward the door.

"Miss Granger, don't walk…"

"Professor Snape," she said, spinning around to face him once more. "I am not your student anymore. As I told you last week, I do not have to subject myself to your abuse. I want to help you, but I am not going to risk injury because you are too stubborn to wear a sling for even a few hours. I understand you don't like the idea of wearing it and I'm not asking you to wear it all the time. Just today; just while we're working on potions." 

***

Snape's eyes narrowed. She was right, of course, not that he would admit that to her. However, she was right; he had dropped more than a few things in the past few days because he had forgotten not to use his left hand for anything breakable or fragile. After all, he could grip if he concentrated enough but more often than not, he'd grip too hard and shatter or crush what he was holding. Potion ingredients were dangerous, the sheer number of first year injuries in Potions class proved that, for her safety, as well as his own, he should wear the sling but…

"Fine, Miss Granger. I will work on the potion alone."

"Wonderful, I can't wait to see how it turns out," she snapped before walking out the door to head to her own rooms upstairs.


	5. chapter 4

**Part Four**  
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking at the burn on his hand again. He didn't feel anything; it was his left hand that had been splashed with the potion. The burn was simply because the potion was hot, not dangerous, but the injury needed to be treated. He walked back to the store cupboard where he'd always kept burn-healing potions but found it empty. Not surprising really, he hadn't been Potion Master here in a year and Voldemort had chosen his replacement for his ability to intimidate and brainwash children, not for his potion skills. 

This shouldn't have happened. This sort of injury was a first year mistake. Splashing hot potion on his hand was unacceptable. Of course, had he not tried to stir said potion with his left hand he wouldn’t have dropped his wand and the potion wouldn't have splashed out of the cauldron…

He had forgotten. Again. This time it wasn't just a broken glass or spilled Pumpkin Juice. This time he had injured himself. Miss Granger had been right, although he loathe admitting it; he needed to disable his arm more completely until he was out of the habit of using it. If it had been, a different potion…or a student had been nearby…

Now he'd have to ask Poppy for the burn-healing potion, and hope she had some in stock. She hadn't been nearly as well stocked as she should've been last term and he was sure much of what she had was used to treat the victims of the final battle. He had no choice though, he'd have to walk up there and ask her for something before the injury became worse. Retrieving his wand, he extinguished the flame under the nerve re-growth potion and started to make his way to the Hospital Wing.  
***

"I don't know what to do, Professor," Hermione sighed, setting her cup of tea on the table as she looked at her former head of house. "I want to help him, he deserves our help. But he's just so…"

"He doesn't trust easily," McGonagall offered. "I know it doesn't excuse his behavior but you saw what Harry saw in the Pensieve, Miss Granger. He has little reason to trust anyone, and he has spent seven years disliking you."

"I know that," Hermione admitted. She had seen Snape's memories and she understood so much more about him, why he didn't like Harry; why he was the way he was; it was why she was willing to stay and help him. He had protected and helped Harry despite his feelings about James. If she was completely honest with herself, she could see why Harry made him so angry. Harry did break rules, often. Sure, in doing so, he often stumbled over something good, something that helped later to fight and defeat Voldemort, but did it really excuse his behavior? More often than not, he hadn't broken the rules intending to do something useful. "I just don't know if I can take the abuse anymore. I'm out of school now, I'm not obligated to let him talk to me that way, and he isn't my teacher any longer. Getting punished for trying to do the right thing; trying to help him, just seems unfair."

"He may not be your teacher anymore but you can learn from him, "McGonagall said quietly.

"How to find a person's weakest spot and twist a knife in it?" Hermione asked, she was tired and it was making her cranky, she knew that but the words were out before she realized what she was saying and to whom.

McGonagall smiled slightly. "Well yes, he could indeed teach you that," she agreed. "But you said you hoped to be able to take your NEWTs in the spring correct?"

"Yes."

"You can't come back as an official student but the Ministry is making arrangements for anyone who missed their NEWTs due to the war to be able to test with the current seventh years. Can you think of anyone who could prepare you for the Potion's NEWT better than Severus?"

Hermione released a loud sigh. She was right; of course, there was not a better Potion Master around. Horace Slughorn had proven that to her. Not that he wasn't a good Potion Master, she thought, but she didn't leave sixth year Potions feeling as if she'd learned as much as she had all the years that Professor Snape had taught her. "So you're saying I should just put up with him?" 

"You aren't his student anymore, so you are correct, you shouldn't take his abuse," McGonagall said, "But walking away and leaving him on his own may hurt you as well as him. Give him time, he'll wear the sling but not until he's ready." 

Hermione nodded and stood up. "I should get back to my rooms, I was hoping for a bath before dinner. Thank you for the talk."

"Anytime, dear."

***

"You need to be more careful, Severus," Madam Pomfrey said as she applied the burn-healing potion to the large burn on his hand. "Without the nerve endings you can injure yourself more easily than before because you won't feel it until it's much too late."

"I realize that," he snapped.

"Where was Miss Granger?"

"Busy attending to her own life, I'd imagine," he said. "I don't need a babysitter."

"No, you don't," she snapped back at him. "But this school does need a Potion Master if we're to open to students in September; a Potion Master that is not burning or otherwise injuring himself out of sheer stubbornness. We'll also need a fully stocked infirmary, so perhaps you don't need a babysitter but maybe you can use an assistant."

He scowled, knowing where she was heading with this line of thought. He normally liked working alone, but there was a great deal of work to do in a very short time and an assistant would be more to his liking than having someone watching over him, making sure he didn't hurt himself like a first year. "And who did you have in mind for this position?"

"I understand Miss Granger has always excelled at Potions," Poppy said with a small smile.

His scowl deepened. Not that he wasn't aware that's what she would say. Nor was she wrong. "Is there anything that Miss Granger doesn't excel at?"

"I understand she was never good at flying."

"I will speak to her, although I wouldn’t hold on to too much hope that she'll agree." 

***

Hermione pulled her bathrobe tighter around her, placed her bookmark in her book and set it on the table before getting up to answer the knock at her door. It was late, who would come up here at this time of night? She had already spoken to Harry and Ron so it wasn't them, and she assumed the rest of the castle had turned in long ago. Pushing open the door her eyes widened in surprise. "Professor Snape."

"Miss Granger, we need to talk," he snapped, "If I may come in, I'd like to make you an offer."

Hermione shrugged and stepped back from the door to allow him in.


	6. chapter 5

**Part Five**

"What happened to your hand?" Hermione asked after they were seated in her small sitting area. Trying to ignore the twinge of guilt she felt at knowing the injury may not have occurred if she had gone to the lab with him. 

"It seems you were right, I can't remember not to use my left hand on my own," Snape said, scowling as he glanced at the bandaged hand. "It will heal."

"Did you see Madam Pomfrey?" She asked immediately concerned. If the nerves were damaged the injury could be so much worse than he realized. 

"Yes, of course I did," he snapped. "I'm aware of the potential danger."

"Right. Then what was it you wanted to see me about?" She had offered him nothing but help and friendship since he woke up and she was growing tired of being snapped at every time she asked him a question. 

***

Snape took a deep breath. Poppy was right and he knew it. Minerva had agreed as well. He would need an assistant to bring all the stock potions up to date and for safety reasons until he was more secure working one handed. Hermione Granger was an exceptional potions student. As well as Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Charms, Transfiguration, and everything else she put her mind too, with the exceptions of Divination and Flying. He certainly couldn't fault her for a dislike of Sybil Trelawney. She was the best possible option and the most convenient since she had already committed to spending time here helping him recover. 

Still, he thought he was rid of working with Golden Trio, did he really want to spend his days working with one of them again. Granted, the most competent one but still she was Potter's friend. Could he work with her? Did he even have a choice? Even if he wasn’t injured, the Hospital Wing's stores were nearly empty of even the most basic of potions. School would begin in less than two months he couldn't possibly brew them alone. And he needed to keep a supply of his nerve re-growth potion as well. And he had been getting along reasonably well with her for the past few weeks.

"Miss Granger, It's been brought to my attention that I may have difficulty restocking all the necessary potions for school to open in September without assistance," he said slowly. He knew if he was being honest, he'd tell her he needed her in the lab because he couldn't work alone with this injury yet; but he'd never been known for his honesty. It's what had made him a good spy for either side. "You have passable potions skills if you would be interested in becoming my assistant for the summer." 

***

Hermione resisted the urge to be offended by him calling her potion skills passable. They were more than passable but for Snape that was a compliment and she took it as one. It was even more of a compliment that he wanted her to be his assistant, even if she knew it was at least partly because he had injured himself again and shouldn't be in the lab alone. But was he truly looking for an assistant or would she be spending her days simply watching him work and occasionally fetching things for him? If he wanted an assistant to make potions rather than someone to help him recover, then she wanted to be treated as an assistant. She wanted to be doing something worth not going to bring her parents back herself. She was going to ask Harry and Ron to go, she had already discussed the possibility with them, but if Professor Snape was too stubborn to admit the real reason for keeping her here then he'd have to treat her that way.

"What exactly is involved in this position, Sir?" 

She bit back a smile when his eyes narrowed, looking at her suspiciously. "You would be assisting me."

"In what exactly?" She wanted to make sure they were clear on what this job was before she agreed to anything. 

"Preparing potions for Madam Pomfrey, as well as a reasonable size back up store. You'd also be helping to prepare the nerve re-growth potion that I'll need."

"And this job is simply for the summer?" 

"That would depend a great deal on how well we work together, I would think," he admitted. "If in September you wish to stay and I still have need of an assistant we can discuss lengthening your stay."

"All right," she smiled, "I can live with that. What do I get in return?" 

"Excuse me?" 

***

What was she going on about now? What would she get in return? It was a job; did she not think they would make arrangements to pay her for her position at this school? She was up to something, he was certain of it. He didn't know what but he'd spent enough time watching her and her friends causing trouble to recognize it when he saw it. "Excuse me?"

"What I'm asking, Sir," Hermione explained, "Is that if I stay and work with you, you benefit, you have assistance brewing necessary potions. The school benefits, you can't possibly brew the number of necessary potions yourself in so short a time. But what do I get?"

"You will be paid for your work."

"Well yes, but it's a difficult job and frankly you aren't the easiest of people to work with," she explained. "I get owls every day offering me positions at the Ministry and for private companies doing all sorts of work, the war had its benefits. So galleons simply aren't enough incentive."

Snape counted to ten slowly, what could the girl possibly want from him, if not money? "What is it you want, Miss Granger?" 

"I want to take my NEWTs in the spring and get as many Outstandings as possible."

"I have no authority to allow you test when you've already left school," he frowned. Surely she knew that, why would she ask him for something he couldn't possibly give her. 

"No, the Ministry is already working on that, for all of us that missed our seventh year, or were unable to test," Hermione agreed. "What you can do is help to ensure I score as high as possible on my Potion NEWT."

"You want to attend classes with the seventh years?" He asked, still confused as to what she wanted.

"If I'm here in two months that would be helpful, but I was hoping for extra lessons," she explained, "we both know there is more to Potions than I would ever have learned here. You know more than you teach us…your old textbook proved that. Even Harry and Ron could brew fairly complicated potions with it. I want to learn from you."

She wanted him to teach her more about potions. She wanted him to make sure she knew what she needed to exceed on her Potion NEWT. While he generally avoided working extra hours with students they'd be together most of their days anyway this summer, much of it waiting for potions to brew, spending some of it teaching and quizzing her would help pass the time. "That would be acceptable."

"You're willing to continue to teach me?" 

"Yes," he agreed. "I believe away from your friends you are more than capable of being an apt student. If there is nothing else I will tell Minerva that you have accepted the position and I will see you at breakfast."


	7. chapter 6

**Part Six**

"Have you finished, Miss Granger?" Snape asked looking up from the potion he was working on. She had been his assistant for nearly a week and had, of course, proven herself more than an asset in brewing the necessary potions. With her help they'd have the Hospital wing restocked in no time. He had conceded to wearing the sling only when in the lab to ensure there were no more accidents. 

They had spent much of their time while waiting for potions to reach various stages discussing what she knew, wanted to know, and needed to know in order to achieve an outstanding in Potions. Much of her more advanced potions knowledge had come from books but she had not actually brewed many of them. Slughorn had spent more time on the flashier potions than the useful ones, spent too much time making games and contests out of the class. All things he knew, as he had also once been Slughorn's student but that combined with missing an entire year had deprived Miss Granger of valuable experience. 

"Nearly, I'm just waiting for it to reach a boil," she said, still watching the cauldron closely. "Do you really believe Wolfsbane is necessary to keep on hand?" 

"No," he admitted. "Although I wouldn't completely rule it out, Greyback was running around unchecked for much of the last year and he preferred children. The reason you're brewing it however, is to see if you can. You wanted to be tested, remember."

"And my first test is Wolfsbane?" She asked, shocked. "Surely something this complicated won't be on the NEWTs."

She was right, there may be questions about the potion, but it would not likely be one they'd ask students to brew as it was extremely complicated and was generally only done by the top Potion Masters. That was the reason he was brewing it for Lupin, rather than Lupin purchasing it elsewhere, it simply wasn't available often, and when it was it was extremely expensive. But he was also aware that she could meet the challenge, there weren't many students he'd even consider capable of brewing this potion. 

"You're correct," he admitted. "They are unlikely to choose Wolfsbane as your practical test, however you said you wished to learn what I don't teach in class, did you not?" 

"Well yes, but…"

"If you can brew this potion, anything you're likely to be tested on will be simple enough," he said as he leaned over her cauldron and nodded his approval. "I believe it's ready for the last ingredient.'

***

Why would he test her first on the most complicated potion he could think of? Did he want her to fail? Or maybe he knew she could do it correctly? Was this a show of confidence in her or an attempt a humiliation? She glanced into the cauldron, he was right, it was boiling. She carefully added the final ingredient and stirred it for several moments before extinguishing the flame beneath it. "It's finished."

He looked in the cauldron again. "How do you think you did?" 

She frowned slightly, why wouldn't he just tell her if she did it correctly or not. "It's the right color, and it's odorless, which is correct."

"Right on both counts, Miss Granger," he agreed, dipping a small ladle into the cauldron he removed a small amount of liquid and tasted it. "Taste is correct as well. Since we have no way to test its effects I'd say it is brilliantly brewed."

Hermione smiled broadly, whatever his reason for making her brew it, she'd done it well. Better than well if he was using the word brilliant. "Are we waiting for anything else to finish today?"

"No, I've just removed the last of the potions from the fires," he answered, "They just need to be bottled."

"Then maybe we can…" Hermione hesitated. They had been getting along very well for the week since she became his assistant but that was working. They worked well together. He had been quizzing her about ingredients and potions while they waited, and today he had her brew Wolfsbane, but none of that meant he'd be open to personal questions or the suggestions she had about his hand. Taking a deep breath, she spoke quickly before she lost the nerve. "I was thinking about some muggle remedies for injuries and thought maybe you'd like to try them, and I'd really like to ask you some questions about the things we saw in the pensieve." 

***  
Snape's eyes narrowed, he wasn't against hearing her muggle remedies. The potion was helping somewhat but if she had ideas that could speed up the process he'd hear her out. It was the talking about his past that he didn't want to do. He bit back his first instinct which was to yell at her, fire her, and throw her out if his lab. After all, he had given Potter the memories and now he'd have to deal with the aftermath. "I'll hear your remedies and you may ask questions but I make no assurances that I will answer them."

Hermione nodded her agreement. "I guess we should get this all cleaned up first." 

"I'll bottle the potions you clean the cauldrons," he agreed. "Then we can go to my rooms and talk."


	8. chapter 7

**Part Seven**

"I'll consider your suggestions, Miss Granger," Snape said after listening to her well thought out arguments for muggle treatments called 'physical therapy'. She had explained that they would not repair the damaged nerves, Muggles had no way of doing that, but the exercises would help him learn to use the hand again anyway. He'd still have to be careful of injury but it would allow him to pick things up and hold them without dropping or breaking them. Allow him at least the appearance of normalcy. 

"I will owl my aunt in the morning then, to find out what exercises specifically can help your injuries."

"That would be fine," he agreed. They were now approaching the part of the evening he still wasn't sure he wanted to deal with. He had agreed though and he wouldn't go back on his word, she could ask her questions and he could refuse to answer any he wished. "You had questions for me?" 

***  
Hermione nodded silently, she had a million questions for him, ranging from potions, to his childhood, to being a Death Eater, to why he always seemed to hate her so much, the problem was narrowing all the questions in her head to the ones he'd likely answer. She had to consider her questions carefully, if she asked too many he didn’t wish to answer he was likely to call off the entire thing and send her to her rooms. 

"Well?" He prompted.

She decided it was best to just dive in and ask what she wanted to know the most. "Why have you always hated me?" 

***

Why did he hate her? In some ways this question was better than many he had been expecting but the answer was complicated and still delved firmly into things he didn't truly want to discuss with anyone. Did he refuse her first question? "Nothing I say leaves this room, Miss Granger," he sighed, "that includes your friends."

"Of course," she agreed immediately. 

"I don't hate you, not really," he admitted. "You remind me very much of people I've had strong feelings about for much of my life. And you've reminded me of them from that first day in class."

"So it had nothing to do with Gryffindor or being Muggleborn?"

"Muggleborn? No, not at all," he responded. "Gryffindor, in a way yes. You saw my memories; you know my history with Potter and his friends now. So yes, being a Gryffindor was a strike against you, as was being a friend of Harry Potter's."

"You hated me long before I was Harry's friend."

She obviously wasn't going to accept his vague answer to her question. It was either give her the truth or put an end to this question. She hadn't truly overstepped her bounds with her question, he'd always treated her badly, and asking why was reasonable. It wasn’t her fault she was forcing him into admitting this to himself as well as to her. 

"I can't remind you of Harry's mum, I've seen pictures I look nothing like her, and "Hermione mused. "And I don't think I'm anything like Sirius…"

"In many ways you do remind me of Lily," Snape admitted quietly. "Not in appearance, but in personality. She always wanted to excel at everything she did too. You also remind me Lupin, like him you don't always participate or approve when your friends do something wrong but you do nothing to stop them."

"But you disliked me that first day of class. You didn't know me well enough to dislike me so intensely so quickly. I can see how those things factored in later but…"

"Which brings me to the person you remind me of that I most loathe at times," he sighed, "that first day, with your hand in the air; with the answers to every question because you had quite clearly read and memorized all of your text books, you reminded me of myself."

"But…"

"Don't say anything," Snape said, standing up and walking over to the table to pour a glass of fire whiskey. "Do you want a drink?" 

Hermione wrinkled her nose, "Do you have Butterbeer?"

Throwing floo powder into the fireplace, he quickly asked the house elves to send Butterbeer to his rooms. "Do you have more questions?" 

He simply wanted this question over. He had never admitted to anyone how very much he loathed himself both then and now. How much he disliked the boy who was so eager to succeed in school that he had no idea how to get along with his classmates. 

"Yes Sir," she said, "The day that you…the day Dumbledore died, why didn't you tell anyone that he asked you to do it? Why let us all believe you murdered him?"

"I did murder him," Snape answered. "The reasons don't matter in the end, Dumbledore is dead, and I cast the curse."

***

Hermione thought about that answer. Essentially, he was right, he cast the curse that killed Albus Dumbledore, and in some ways that's all that mattered, he had murdered one of the greatest wizards of all time. But on the other hand, he had only acted as a device for Dumbledore to commit suicide. He had only followed orders. She also knew that was something he'd have to come to terms with on his own, she wasn't prepared to deal with what he was going through if he truly felt that way. And in some ways, it answered her other questions about his not telling anyone, but she wanted to know all the reasons. "But why didn't you tell anyone? Go to the Order?"

"Even if I had wanted to, do you truly think that Moody, or Lupin wouldn't have killed me on sight?" Snape asked. "Potter had already told everyone that he saw me kill Dumbledore."

"So, you just didn't come to us because you thought we'd kill you before we knew the truth."

He nodded, "And because I couldn't. Potter's mind gave Voldemort open access to everything he knew. If I went to the Order, they'd tell Potter, and I'd be just as dead. This way left me able to stay and protect the children of this school as much as possible, for as long as possible."

It made sense; Harry had never mastered Occlumency which did put Snape at risk. Letting everyone believe what Harry told them was the surest way to keep him safe and allow him to continue to fight for the Order, even if they didn't realize it. "I have a million questions about potions and the NEWTs but those can wait for another day, I just have one more question even though I don't think you'll answer it." 

"Out with it?" 

"You and Lily Evans were friends until the end of your fifth year," she said cautiously. "But did you ever tell her you loved her?" 

***  
Now she had asked a question that clearly overstepped her rights. His feelings for Lily had nothing to do with her. Not directly. Yet he found himself answering her question before he could stop himself. "No. Lily never knew. She was a Gryffindor, I was in Slytherin. She had a family that loved her, I had a family that in turns hated or ignored me, and she was beautiful and popular. I was happy being her friend and didn't want to do anything that could change that."

He was amazed how easily the words had come out. Hermione Granger now knew more about his feelings and reasoning for keeping his secret all these years than even Dumbledore had. He wasn't even sure why had told her. 

"Telling her could've made things turn out differently."

"Yes, it could've gotten her killed sooner," he snapped. "I've answered your questions and I think it's time we say good night."


	9. chapter 8

**Part Eight**

Snape couldn't sleep. He had tried lying in bed for a while but was now up pacing his study. He was still beating himself up for telling Hermione as much as he had. He had never admitted to anyone his reasons for not keeping his feelings from Lily Evans, nor had he ever admitted to the self-loathing he often felt. Yet the little Gryffindor know-it-all had asked a few well-chosen questions and now knew some of his deepest secrets. In no time he'd be the laughing stock of the Wizarding world; as soon as she talked to her friends again everyone would know. 

But she had given her word to not speak of it outside of this room, he thought. Gryffindors were known for their honesty so perhaps she wouldn't tell anyone. That's what he wanted to believe, needed to believe, yet his past was filled with Gryffindors who had betrayed him. Even Dumbledore in some ways had betrayed him by forcing him into the position of killing him and setting Harry Potter up for his own death. So could he trust her? Would she be the one Gryffindor that wouldn't betray him?

In the last weeks, he'd learned a great deal about Hermione Granger, and he had been right when he'd first met her, she was more like him than anyone would ever realize. She was smart and driven. Most of the trouble she'd been in over the years was due to her friends…if she'd been left to her own devices she'd have stayed well away from trouble. He'd asked her a few questions about her school years and how certain things had come to pass…the missing ingredients for Polyjuice her second year, Delores Umbridge's attack in the Forbidden Forest, even Dumbledore's Army…all he could say was that he was astonished this girl was not sorted into Slytherin. If she wasn't muggle born, she'd have fit in well, although another part of him was glad she wasn't Slytherin. He wasn't certain he would want to be the one to keep that cunning under control…nor was he certain he would want that mind focused on simply gaining power. 

He absently reached for the glass he had filled with yet another round of fire whiskey. He was using his left hand, as Hermione had suggested he try to do occasionally to keep its strength and to get accustomed to how tightly he needed to grip when he did pick something up. He was able to raise the glass to his mouth and take a small sip before the glass started to slip. He tried to reach for the glass with his good hand but it hit the ground before he could secure his grip. Retrieving his wand from the table, he quickly cleaned the mess and put out the small fire in the fireplace. He needed sleep. There were no answers to why he had entrusted so much of himself to Hermione Granger, none that he'd figure out tonight anyway. 

As he headed back to his bedroom, his mind wandered, trying to think if he'd ever trusted anyone that much before. Not in recent memory certainly. In the recent past, he'd trusted no one but Albus Dumbledore and even him not completely. The last person he could remember trusting this much had been…Lily. She was the one person that had always known his secrets. That was ridiculous though, he was not in love with Hermione Granger…she was a student…young enough to be his daughter, he thought climbing into bed. He was not in love with her…

No, he was right, he thought, he wasn't in love with her. He hadn't been in love with Lily either when he'd began confiding in her…she had just been his friend. Had he grown in the last few weeks to consider Hermione Granger a friend? That too was an idea he wasn't accustomed to, he had so few friends in his life. Friends hadn't been practical for so many years; spying did not encourage one to forge friendships. Nor did the thirst for power cultivated in Slytherin house. Yet he was becoming more and more certain that perhaps he and Hermione Granger could be just that. At least they could if he learned to trust and open up to her friendship, he realized as he started to drift to sleep. Hermione had offered nothing but friendship since he'd woken up weeks ago. 

***  
Hermione was also having trouble sleeping. Her mind was consumed with what she knew about Severus Snape now. He had revealed so much more than she thought he would. And it had all explained so much to her. So much of what had happened in the last seven years; why he had become a death eater; why he had hated her so intensely long before she was Harry's friend; why he was also so…Snape-like. She had left him and immediately gone to owl her aunt. She was more determined than ever to help him regain his arm. Potions seemed to be the one thing he had and to be completely truthful she couldn't really see him managing without at least some use of his left hand for very long. Students were notoriously accident prone, one Neville Longbottom in class and Snape wouldn't be able to keep up with the injuries with a handicap like that. 

She'd been casually trying to get him to see her as more than an annoying student since she agreed to become his assistant; she wanted him to see her as a friend. She had always had the distinct feeling he was lacking in those. Before she'd always believed it was because he had purposely chased them away. In the first years she'd known him she'd assumed it was because he was so nasty to everyone…then she thought it was because he couldn't risk it as a spy. Now though, now she had the distinct idea that Lily Evans had been his only friend and that had happened accidentally; that perhaps he had no idea how to have friends, how to confide in anyone else. 

He had admitted that she was much like him though, that she had reminded him of himself when he was younger, so maybe she could use that. Their short talks over the past few weeks had indeed revealed a great deal in common so maybe she could build on that. Maybe that combined with helping him with the prospective physical therapy would make him recognize her as someone he could trust. She'd told Harry as much when he'd flooed her after she'd returned from owling her aunt, and he'd laughed. Severus Snape was a hero and deserved respect he didn't deny that anymore, but she couldn't be serious about a friendship. Snape didn't have friends; hero or not he was not a nice man. 

The thing was, she thought Harry was wrong. Oh, Snape was never going to be outgoing and friendly like Harry or any of the Weasley's but he did deserve friendship. Everyone did.


	10. chapter 9

**Part Nine**

Snape watched Hermione pick up the envelope an owl had dropped next to her plate and open it, a smile growing across her face as she read it. It had been nearly another week since they had discussed what she had seen in the pensieve. She hadn't pressed for answers to more questions and they'd spent a great deal of time discussing her NEWTs, now that the Ministry had indeed approved anyone who was supposed to sit them last year to sit them this year. As well as fifth years who had missed out on OWLs. They had also spent some time discussing the school, the war, and the past year of her life. He freely admitted to being impressed with her ability to cast such complicated magic on her parents and even grudgingly admitted to being impressed that Potter and Weasley had been able to successfully reverse it and return her parents home. 

He had agreed to let her leave for a few days next week to go visit with her parents. There was no reason not to allow it; with her help, they had brewed all the necessary potions for Madam Pomfrey in record time, as well as a reasonable back up supply and several months of his potion. 

"Sir," Hermione said, holding the letter out to him, "This is from my aunt. She's sent me a list and an explanation of several exercises and treatments we can try…if you're still willing that is."

"May I?" he asked, taking the offered letter he read it over and quickly glanced at the suggestions her aunt had made. None of it required muggle drugs of any kind so he saw no reason to not agree. "We still have a few potions to finish up today."

"Of course," she agreed. "But maybe after we finish. It shouldn't take long to finish the Skele-grow at all or the remainder of the pain potion." 

She was right of course; he didn't know why he was looking for ways to avoid doing this. The worst that could happen was that it would do nothing. He'd be in the same position he was in now, completely unable to use is left hand. Which he supposed was actually the problem. He had never been one to risk getting his hopes up for something that may not happen. It was easier to expect failure. 

"Have you changed your mind?" she asked when he didn't answer. 

"No," he answered quickly. "Today is fine. After lunch?" 

"Wonderful, "she smiled." There are a few things we'll need but I’m sure I can transfigure them."

***

"These exercises do what, exactly?" Snape asked, squeezing the small rubber ball she had given him. "They seem silly."

She consulted the letter from her aunt. "This one will build strength in your hand, and help you grip things better without practicing on things you can break with too much pressure or by dropping with not enough."

They had finished the last of the potions today. Madam Pomfrey had enough for at least several months so they now had plenty of time to work on improving Snape's motor skills with his injured hand. Her aunt had said basically the same thing Madam Pomfrey had, nerves may re-grow in time, but he shouldn't count on it and could learn, with a little practice, to use that hand for small things, without anyone noticing anything was wrong with it. 

"Do you feel anything in that hand at all?" She asked, "What about your arm? Are they completely numb?"

"A tingling sensation sometimes," he answered, still squeezing and releasing the ball in his hand. "Why?"

"Well, my aunt says that a tingling is good," Hermione said, smiling, "It means that the nerves may not be completely dead so they may heal or re-grow. If it was completely numb there'd be less chance."

"That's a hundred," he said stopping. He shook out his hand a little. It was quickly becoming stiff from the short workout they'd done. 

"Well, that's all of them," she said taking the ball from him and setting it aside. "It's all mostly about building strength again and just…getting used to it. She says you should do all of these at least once day, more if you can manage it." 

***

"And eventually I'll forget I have this injury?" he asked, frowning down at the injured hand. He had no illusions that the damage would be repaired. He'd given up on that the first time he'd talked to Poppy. He wanted to believe these exercises would make things better but…

"Well, no," she admitted. "I wish I could say you would but I think it'll just make you more aware of what you're doing with that hand. More careful." 

He nodded; it was much as he had thought. It was times like this that he realized being a pessimist was probably to his advantage. By never expecting much, he wasn't disappointed with this news. He also knew things were improving with his hand. He was remembering more often now, enough so that he had even forgone the sling in the lab for the last few days. He would do the exercises and continue to take the nerve potion on the off chance it would help one day. 

Now that they had caught up on potions though, he had noticed, for the first time, that he didn't have long to prepare for start of term. Classes would be starting in less than three weeks and he had yet to go to Diagon Alley to secure the necessary supplies…and what he had was nearly gone with all the brewing they'd been doing in the last several weeks. Mentally he began making plans to go to London in the morning; and then begin preparing lesson plans once again. He actually found himself looking forward to start of term; to doing more than simply keeping students from being killed by death eaters. 

For the first time since Dumbledore's death, he felt good about what was happening. He felt like he could accomplish something useful. As much as he didn't want to admit, he had Hermione to thank for that. He couldn't truthfully say he'd have even tried to prepare a potion again without her help and … stubbornness. Now though, now she would be leaving in just a few weeks. He'd have to carry on by himself, continue to practice and exercise, and go back to spending his time alone in the dungeons with no one to talk to. He had never been close to the other teachers and didn't expect that to change now, he was well aware of his personality. 

He had never thought he would say he'd miss a member of the golden trio, yet he found himself thinking just that now. He would miss Hermione Granger when she left to take up whatever career she chose. He'd miss having someone to talk to, someone to help him with the stocks for the hospital wing. He'd miss having an assistant. 

Hadn't she asked once about the position continuing after term started? Yes, yes, she had, the day he had proposed the job to her. He had said it was possible…she hadn't objected. But no, there was no way she'd want to commit to spending another year here at this school…would she?

"Miss Granger," he said hesitantly. "All of the necessary potions are brewed for the next term, which was why you were hired."

***  
Hermione frowned at him. Was he getting ready to tell her he no longer needed an assistant? He didn't, not really. The backlog had been filled and he was progressing nicely with his hand and was perfectly capable of working alone as he had for years…"Yes sir."

"We had discussed once, the chance of this being a permanent position, if we were compatible."

Hermione nodded. She hadn't lied when she said she had been receiving owls every day with job offers but she hadn't really been offered anything that appealed to her. She wasn't interested in being an auror like Harry, nor did she have a family business to fall back on as Ron was doing working with George. The Ministry was overlooking a lack of NEWTs for Harry to become an auror, but anything she was truly interested in would require the NEWTs with no exceptions. They weren't positions that were going to be swayed by her war hero status. She could go back home until June but…

"If you'd like to stay on, I could certainly use the extra hand to keep up with student demand in the hospital wing, and a teaching assistant wouldn't be remiss either." 

"You want me to stay?" She asked shock evident on her face, "Permanently?"

"I wouldn't want to assume you want to spend your life here, Miss Granger," he offered, "However I was thinking the next year, until you can take your NEWTs, could be possible. It would give you more time to study without worrying about employment. And I'd be willing to continue to help you with your studies, as I'm sure the other Professors would be as well."

Hermione smiled widely. She hadn't wanted to get her hopes up that he'd offer her this job, although McGonagall had seemed certain he would, but she had truly wanted to stay here. Her friends may not understand why, but she did enjoy school, she also had enjoyed these past weeks working with Snape, rather than simply being a student. Staying here and continuing to build this fragile friendship was certainly a factor, but so was passing her NEWTs. "I'd love to stay." 

***

Snape let an all too often unseen smile cross his face when she agreed to stay. "I'll let Professor McGonagall know you're staying." 

"You mentioned teaching assistant work as well," she said hesitantly, "School is only three weeks away and I really wanted to visit my parents…"

"I know we had discussed next week," he said, "But perhaps you could go tomorrow and simply return the week before start of term?" 

"Are you sure?" 

He nodded. "Visit your family and be back in two weeks, it's plenty of time to get ready for start of term." 

"And you can continue working on the exercises alone?" she asked, "If you still need help I can always see if my parents could come here for a visit…"

He saw the genuine concern on her face and was shocked by it. It had been years since anyone had shown real concern for his well-being. He found himself hoping that the year she had agreed to would turn into a more permanent job at this school. "I'll be fine, Miss Granger. Go home; I'll see you in two weeks, hopefully ready to face classes with an arm strong enough to at least conceal the injury." 

The end. 

There may, in the near future be a sequel to this story although at this point I won't be making promises on that.


End file.
